She swallowed and jumped up from her chair. “Here, let me help you,” she said to Eric. “I can fill these glasses.”
Eric gave her a look of such gratitude that she nearly dropped the glass she was holding under the faucet. He put his arm around her and squeezed her waist before joining his friends at the table.
Sarah finished filling the glasses and set them before the boys. The oven dinged, and she slid the pizzas onto the rack inside. “Ten minutes,” she said. “And then they’ll be ready.”
Dean and Jailin stayed way too long. Sarah was ready to drop with exhaustion, which made no sense as she’d hardly done a thing all day.
“I have to leave early in the morning,” Eric told her.
“Why?”
“School. Did you forget I still go to school?”
Truly, she hadn’t even thought about it. But of course, he still had to go to school. This was his senior year, and then he would graduate. She pursed her lips. If he left in the morning, she would be alone all day.
With nothing to do.
Eric cleared his throat. “Uh … there’s something else…”
His cheeks showed a faint tinge of pink and there was guilt written all over his face. Sarah’s chest tightened. “What is it?”
“I might not be back tomorrow night, either.”
Her mouth dropped open, and he rushed on. “But don’t worry. I’ll for sure be here the next day.”
She stared at him. “Why?”
“Uh, well, since my folks don’t know we’re married yet, they’ll wonder why I don’t come home for the night. Tonight is okay because they think I’m at Dean’s. Last night, too.”
Sarah took a jagged breath. She was so stunned, she couldn’t speak. So, she was to stay there for almost two days by herself with nothing to do. And nothing to eat?
Her thoughts flew to the baby. Didn’t she need better nourishment when she was pregnant, not worse?
Eric tried to put his arms around her, but she stiffened and pulled back. He moaned. “Don’t be that way, Sarah. It’s only for a while. I’ll tell them and then everything will be all right.”
Something burst inside Sarah, and she jerked off the couch and faced him. “All right? You think this is all right? I have nothing to keep me busy here! And there’s no food! How can this be all right?”
Her voice was loud and ugly, and she was immediately ashamed, but she couldn’t stop herself. She glared at him, shaking from head to toe. The room fell into silence. All that could be heard were Sarah’s quick labored breaths. She struggled to get herself under control, and her breathing turned into puffing wheezes.
Eric appeared blindsided. But what had he expected? She wondered if he knew her at all.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I didn’t know you’d get so mad.”
She gulped air, not sure at all whether she was mad. She’d reacted like she was. But more than anger, she shook with raw disappointment. It raked across her dreams, and she didn’t know how to stop it.
A stiff silence stretched between them.
“I’m sorry, too,” she finally said.
He stood, and she looked up at him. She saw a myriad of emotions play over his face, and she was horrified to see regret flash in his eyes. Regret? For what? For marrying her? He didn’t move except the faintest tightening of his jaw.
Her heart squeezed in pain. Regret? Was that what he was feeling?
Her mouth tightened into a scowl. She felt it and tried to dislodge it, but it stuck like cement. She gasped, and her heart pounded against her ribs. It was too fast and too hard, and she panicked that she was going to die. She knew it then. She was going to fall onto the floor that very second and die.
“You don’t want me,” she rasped, her voice hard and bitter and dying.
He didn’t answer, but his eyes never left hers. Her breathing went shallow then, and she wondered where the air went. Who was sucking it from the room? Tiny black spots danced at the edge of her vision. She moved her eyes to try and follow them, but they escaped her. She felt herself waver, and her knees went weak.
“Sarah!” Eric cried through a thick blanket of fog. “Sarah!”
Chapter Six
The next thing Sarah knew was the sensation of cold on her forehead. Freezing cold. And drips going down the side of her head and puddling in her ears.
“What?” she muttered, struggling to a sitting position. A wet rag fell off her head and flopped into her lap, splashing her with a spray of cold water.
“You’re awake.” He sighed, and his relief was tangible.
She looked at him kneeling by her side. He was crying, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. She reached over and touched his face. The tips of her fingers fluttered over his cheeks. She saw her hand shake, and she wondered why.
“You scared me,” Eric said. With a gasp, he buried his face in her neck. She reached her slender arms around him and held him while he cried, huge shuddering sobs that shook him to his core. After he stopped crying, he stayed buried in her neck for a long time. She lay her head on top of his.
She wondered what he was thinking. What he was feeling. What they were doing. She had seen his regret. Seen it as clearly as if it was blazoned across the sky in a huge sheet of pain. Even now, his regret filled the space, pressing in on her with surprising force.
He pulled his head up, and his eyes were swollen and his nose was red. “I’m sorry.” His face went pink. “I feel like an idiot.”
He scrambled up from the floor and sat beside her where she was still half-lying on the couch. She scooted over to make room for him.
“That won’t happen again.”
She didn’t know how to respond. Only one time had she’d seen a man cry like that. Her dat, when her brother James was killed. Dat had sobbed for hours, sending terror through Sarah. She remembered the feeling as if it had just happened.
And now, looking at Eric, she felt the same terror begin to build again, filling her from the outside in, crowding her, taking all the room inside.
Sarah averted her eyes. A log in the fire broke in half, falling and sending a flurry of sparks up the chimney. The coals around it glowed red and orange, as if they were alive, blinking at her, taunting her.
“Sarah?”
“What?” She still couldn’t look at him.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t have this as planned out as I thought.” Eric put his fingers under her chin and turned her face to his. “I’m sorry.”
He leaned close and touched her lips with his. She blinked back the tears. He had kissed her many times. So many times. But it had never been like this. This kiss, this kiss mixed with tears, this kiss felt like a good-bye. Panicked, she reached out and encircled him with her arms. Pulling hard, she drew him to her and held on. He hesitated and slowly, as if in pain, he returned her embrace. She raised her lips to his and kissed him. He felt stiff to her one moment, then limp the next. She kissed him again, embarrassed by her own persistence, but driven to continue.
What was happening? Usually, all she had to do was press herself to him, and he would eagerly respond. But she wouldn’t give up. She could kiss his regret away. If he would just give her time, she knew she could.
“Eric?”
He didn’t answer her, but his arms tightened their embrace. She blew out her breath in relief. It was going to be all right. And maybe she was just being emotional. Didn’t all pregnant women get emotional? Sarah squeezed her eyes shut. Surely, this is all normal. How could she have supposed there wouldn’t be major adjustments?
And then he let go of her. He rubbed his hands over his thighs and kept his eyes on the floor. “I guess we should talk about a doctor.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why? I’m feeling all right now.”
“You need to go. All pregnant girls need to go to the doctor. And frequently, from what I know. Besides, you just fainted.”
“But I’m feeling fine. And when the time
comes—”
“That’s another thing.” He cut her off. “Are you on your dad’s insurance? Because I don’t see how we could possibly afford it if you’re not.”
“My dat’s insurance?”
He blew out his breath, his cheeks puffing with air. “I don’t think I can get you on my parents’ insurance. I don’t really know. So if we can keep you on your dad’s…” He gave her a hopeful look.
“We don’t have insurance. None of us do.”
His eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“We don’t believe in insurance. It’s for the Englisch—” She stopped herself, realizing that she was to be an Englischer herself. “I mean, the Amish use midwives. I guess that’s what I planned to do. I hadn’t thought about it much. Don’t you have midwives?”
“Midwives?” he repeated. His brow lowered. “Yeah, I guess there are midwives. I don’t think many people use them. But, Sarah, you’ll have to go to the hospital to have the baby.”
She drew back. “I don’t see why! Hardly anyone ever goes to the hospital, and we do just fine. I don’t want to go to the hospital!”
She was getting worked up, and she saw the dismay on Eric’s face. She clamped her mouth shut. He stood up and began pacing the room.
“I don’t understand. You plan to have the baby at home? Like, in a bed?” He stopped and looked at her.
“Well, jah. I mean, yes.”
He shook his head over and over. “No. No. That’s not right.”
“But it is! We’ve done it that way forever.” Something reared up inside her. How could he question her ways? He wasn’t the one who was pregnant. He didn’t know what was best.
She covered her mouth. Why was she clinging to her Amish ways?
“What are we doing?” he asked, kneeling before her. “What were we thinking?”
His regret was back. Standing on its hind legs. Clawing at the air.
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she stared at him with dread. “You want out, don’t you? Already. Is that what you want? We’ve been married a whole ten minutes, and now you’re done!”
“I never said—”
“You’re saying it right now! Do you think I’m an imbecile?” She jumped from the couch, went dizzy for an instant, but with sheer grit, steadied herself. “I may not have gone to high school, but I know what I see!”
She flew from the room, running into the bedroom and slamming the door behind her. With a sob, she fell onto the bed, curling into a ball. She rocked herself back and forth on the mattress. Strangely, no tears came. Her eyes were dry. Her throat felt dry, too. Dry and scratchy and painful.
Eric knocked on the door, but she ignored him. He knocked again, then turned the knob and came in. She closed her eyes. He sat next to her, the bed dipping under his weight.
“I’m sorry. I’m not done with us. I’m not. I won’t desert you, Sarah.”
She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. He wouldn’t desert her? What he didn’t say bellowed through her head. He didn’t say he loved her. He didn’t say he was excited about having a baby. He didn’t say he wanted to build a home with her.
What have I been thinking? I am delusional. I said I wasn’t an imbecile, but I am. I am. I am. She hugged her stomach and cried for her baby. She’d wanted to give it a family. A family with its real mother and father. She’d wanted to be a wonderful mamm, cooking and cleaning and sewing and harvesting and nurturing and loving and praying. She squeezed her eyes tight. And praying?
She swallowed past the rock in her throat. I am describing an Amish mother. She tightened her grip on her stomach as the truth blasted through her. I want to give the baby an Amish mother. An Amish home.
Eric put his hand on her shoulder, and she barely kept herself from recoiling. He didn’t want her. Nor did he want any part of her former life. What had happened? She didn’t know. She didn’t know. Fear shook her. It twisted through her stomach and rose through her chest, an ugly consuming monster.
What had they done?
Instinctively, she began to pray. Then she remembered God would never want to listen to her. Not after the mess she’d made of everything. She put her hand over her mouth in horrifying awareness that she was now all alone.
“Sarah, are you going to puke?” Eric asked. “You want me to help you to the bathroom?”
She shook her head, her eyes still tightly shut. Her hand dropped away from her mouth. She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t.
“I want my sister,” she said into the blackness of her closed eyes. “I want Annie.”
And she did. She yearned for Annie. Somehow, her sister would make things right again.
“Your sister? The one who came to Powter’s Point that night to meet me? The one who went to Ohio with you?”
Sarah nodded and opened her eyes. Eric stared at her as if he didn’t recognize her. In a whisper, he continued, “The one who is going to steal your baby?”
Your baby?
Sarah’s eyes went hard, and she shook her head over and over. The silence between them stretched across the frozen air. She inched away from him. “Don’t you mean our baby?”
He flinched, and his face turned red. “You know what I mean!” he argued.
“I know exactly what you mean.” Her words scraped like a drill through metal.
He flinched again, blinking rapidly. “Sarah…”
Sarah got off the bed on the far side and walked around it, picking up her suitcase from the corner of the room as she came. “I’m going to leave now.”
“Sarah! We’re married.”
“We lied, Eric. I still don’t understand how we got away with it.”
He stood, and she saw him falter and then grab the bedpost to regain his balance. “So, we’re finished. Just like that? You’re walking out?”
She paused and something inside her turned hard. “It’s all a lie.”
“But we love each other.”
She looked at him then, and her eyes filled with tears. “I guess we do,” she whispered. “But it’s not enough. Not for you. Not for me. Not for this baby.”
His eyes welled with tears. He blinked and they spilled out, running down his cheeks. “We could still try.”
“Jah. We could. When are you going to tell your parents?”
He swallowed so hard, she could hear it. “I can tell them tomorrow.”
Their eyes locked, and Sarah knew he was silently pleading with her. He wanted her to tell him not to bother. He wanted her to tell him not to inform his parents.
“You don’t want to admit what we did,” she whispered.
“I’ll tell them tomorrow. I will.” His chest rose.
She shook her head.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
Sarah opened the suitcase on the bed. Her movements were measured and mechanical. She marveled that she was able to function at all. An odd sensation filled her, as if she wasn’t really in her body, but was above herself, floating about the room, moving her body parts by pulling marionette strings. Did she need to pack her shirts? Pull up on the arm string and swish it to the side. Did she need to pack her jeans? Pull the string again, and don’t forget to maneuver the hand. Did she need to put on her coat?
Not yet.
Sarah opened the bottom dresser drawer and knelt on the floor. She reached in and pulled out her cape dress. It was a mess. The wrinkles had shriveled it into a knotted wad. She stood and shook the garment out, holding it before her and staring at it as if discovering it for the first time. Without thinking, she brought it close and buried her face in it, inhaling sharply. The scent of crisply washed sheets and the aroma of freshly baked bread filled her nose. She had no idea whether the smells were really there or whether her jumbled brain had fabricated them.
No matter. The familiar fragrance triggered something deep within her, and she began to tremble. Without a word, she lay the dress on the bed and shed her Englisch clothes, plucking them off like so much refuse. Then she picked up the crumpled
garment and pulled it over her head, letting it fall about her, gently touching her calves.
Eric inhaled. “Please, Sarah, please. Can’t we talk about this?”
Sarah began pinning up her long thick hair. She turned to gaze at him. “We were wrong. I was wrong. I thought my dat was insane. He wasn’t.”
He stepped to her and took her hands. “So, let’s figure this out. Please, Sarah.”
She felt herself weaken then. Her dying dream took a gasping breath and resurrected itself enough to call her name.
“Do you want this baby, Eric?” She held her breath. This was the moment. This was the pivotal moment when everything could shift. When hope could be reborn.
The silence stretched between them with crushing agony.
He didn’t answer. Nor did he need to. She saw it on his face. And in that devastating moment, the last vestige of hope seeped from her, and she faltered next to the bed, ready to fall.
“I didn’t think so,” she said.
“Sarah, I love you.”
She worked to breathe. She worked to make her body move. And then it did. She dug in her bag until she found her kapp. With expert quickness, she had it in place over her low bun. “I love you, too.”
“What are you going to do?”
Not this, she thought. Not this. Her baby deserved better. Her baby deserved the best.
Her breath caught and a sharp pain pierced her chest as the truth roared through her mind. My. Baby. Deserves. Annie.
The awareness rushed over Sarah. The knowing. The conviction.
Perhaps, she’d grown up in the last twenty-four hours. Perhaps, she was a different person now. She didn’t know yet. She rammed a loose bobby pin more snugly into her hair. Her firm intent to leave her Amish family shriveled, and in its place came a whisper of hope. A faint, tremulous hope that maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t burned all her bridges.
She wanted Annie. That she knew with no doubts. She was finished packing now. She took up her bag, but Eric grabbed it from her and carried it to the living room himself. She followed, picking up her cape from the hallway and slipping it on.
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